The Whole 30 effect

So the husband and I have been on the Whole 30. Except our Whole 30 was more like the Whole 5 out of 15…Whole third? Anyways.

For those that don’t know, the Whole 30 is a cleanse diet/lifestyle of sorts that’s all about getting back to the basics of what we put inside our bodies – essentially paleo clean-eating. Friends (both autoimmune and not) have raved about how great it makes them feel; how it purges cravings, heals your gut and generally makes you an all-around better, tap-dancing, dream-achieving person.

She looks like the kind of person who does the Whole 30 successfully, no? Photo: Pinterest

While you can’t exactly (definitely) call it a successful go, I did learn a few things. For example, I thought I’d have an easier time of it than the husband, seeing as I’ve already had to cut so many of the offending foods out of my diet. What I hadn’t counted on though was how much I relied on all the replacements for my restricted ones, which were just as hard to go without. The endeavor started so promisingly, but it quickly culminated in a sticky, half dozen donut binge surrounded by a haze of chocolate icing and hangry marital tension.

The whole thing got me to examine my cravings. I’ve often felt like I’m ruled by food, but maybe it’s actually my perspective. Reading about bloggers who “haven’t had a single craving in years!!!” fills me with a hope that I too might one day be freed from food if I just tried, planned, micro-managed harder. One day when I was miserable because all I wanted was the Mediterranean Quinoa at the Whole Foods hot bar and I was hungry damnit, I thought – maybe there’s a better way. Maybe it’s not about fighting every single gram of good-tasting thing because it will make me a healthier and therefore better and therefore happier person, but it’s just not punishing myself with a completely unrealistic standard that works for someone else. And that thought filled me with a new kind of hope. All that said, food nirvana is much easier said than done, though.